


Last Dance

by PotatooftheLand



Series: With Strings Attached [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Breeding Kink, Dancing, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/M, Faeformers, Faeformers AU, Kissing, Light Bondage, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-05 10:46:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14042574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatooftheLand/pseuds/PotatooftheLand
Summary: Just one last dance before midnight, before you have to go.  One last goodbye to the one who held you too close.(Chapter 1 is E, subsequent chapters are T)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FAEFORMERS TARN STRIKES AGAIN.  
> A late birthday gift for a Tumblr friend, hope you like it! I was like…how do I do NSFW yandere Faeformers Tarn without it being non-con >^> Thus, this was created xD Originally going to be a one-shot but they requested me to desist on the angst so I'll probably squeeze 3 chapters on this xD

You take a deep breath, hoping with all your heart that this will be your salvation, that this little black rune on your wrist would deliver you to freedom. Now that you were faced with the task at hand though, acquiring the rune seemed like it had been the easy part of the spell. You set the needle of the gramophone onto the disc, as the whimsical notes of the _Empyrean Suite_ fill the room.

“Tarn, would you like to dance?” You ask him coyly, batting your lashes and tilting your head _just_ so to expose your neck.

He seems a little surprised by your suggestion, but by the way his eyes hungrily roam your body you are sure he won’t refuse. 

“Of course, my love~” he agrees predictably, reaching over to sweep you into a low dip that you make sure leaves you breathless.

Your sheer amethyst dress flared to catch the last light of day flitting through the window as the two of you spun and twirled, steps synchronised from the familiarity of the dance. There’s no need for words, not when your hearts are beating together in time with the song. It’s sad, to know that these moments are some of the rare ones where Tarn feels truly at peace. Just for a little while. You let him lift you into the air, and for a second you are soaring. You hope he’s enjoying this last dance too.

“I love you.” He says quietly, so sincerely that you can do nothing but smile in response.

“I know.”

The music is gone now, leaving only silence in its wake. You reach up and carefully remove Tarn’s mask, setting it aside as you kiss him. He eagerly returns your affection, moaning into the taste of your supple lips. You pull away playfully when he tries to push his tongue into your mouth though, burying your face in his neck instead.

“Don’t tease me, (Name).” he warns breathlessly, running his hands over your neck, your waist then lower still. 

“Why? Will you punish me?” 

He growls, lifting you easily and pushing you onto the bed. Lying on your back like this, you feel small and powerless…but when he looks at you it’s with that same adoring devotion as always, albeit with a predatory glint.  
  
“Do you want me?” he asks gently, voice tinged with the edge of desperation as you smile and nod in response.

He shudders in excitement, overjoyed that this day has finally come. That he can finally _have_ you at last. He’s dreamed of this moment, longed for you for countless Fae years…His eyes are dark, primal and ravenous as he pins you under him, tracing his claws through your dress and cutting it to ribbons.

“You’re beautiful, (Name)…” he tells you softly, even as he ties your wrists to the headboard with the fabric of your ruined dress, tightly enough that you’re held fast.

You whimper, tugging futilely at your restraints a little as you lie completely exposed for him, shivering at the force and hunger of his gaze. He straddles your waist, massaging your breasts, rubbing and flicking your pert nipples with those rough, clawed hands as your breath hitches. Something meaty and hot touches your bare stomach as you balk at the size of it, thick and dripping. He notices your apprehension and purrs soothingly, rubbing his cock against your skin as you feel his sticky, beaded pre-cum smear.

“Shh, it’s alright, my love.” He assures you, dipping down to suck and lap at your sex with his tongue to prepare you.

You mewl as the sensation, sounding needy and desperate in a way that has Tarn aware of just how painfully erect he is. You’re gasping and groaning, completely at his mercy and it’s everything he wants…

“Why darling you’re already so wet.” He teases, lining up the head of his cock to your tender, quivering entrance as you try to relax.

He pushes in, so thick and hard that you’re stretched to your limits around him. He’s going so slowly but it still hurts. He’s moaning in pleasure as you bite your lip to stifle a scream. He’s so deep now, you’re sure that you’ve taken him all in a few seconds ago but he keeps going.

“Ah...! Tarn…Tarn, it—“ you can’t finish your sentence as he brushes against a cluster of nerves that sends fire through your veins. 

You gasp, groaning and twisting in your restraints as he continues penetrating you, your walls fluttering around him. It’s too much, too deep but you can’t do anything but take him further and further into you. You pant and sob as you struggle to accommodate his sheer length and girth until finally, he hilts himself inside you.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he murmurs as you can only whine in response, desperately trying to form coherent words.

He stills, letting you get used to his size before carefully pulling out until only his tip remains inside. You cry out when he suddenly thrusts back in, making you take in his entirety as you moan from the pain and pleasure. He frags you ruthlessly, slamming inside of you again and again until your thoughts are incoherent and you can only call his name.

He shudders, you’re lovely like this, when you’re all his. When you’re filled to the brim with his spike, sliding in and out— He’s close, hips stuttering as he drives himself deeper and deeper with each plunge. You feel wonderful, moulded around his cock so tightly like you were made for him…

He cums inside you, gouts of sticky hot liquid spilling out into your womb and lining you inside, stuffing you with a burning heat that seems to spread through your whole body. There’s so much, it fills and fills you as he keeps his seed stopped up inside with his spike. You’re so stretched out you have to take it, keep all of that unbearable warmth in.

“Good girl~” he hums in approval as you struggle to get enough air, panting from the intensity of your own climax.

You’re sore and oversensitive, body trembling and spent when he at last removes himself. You whimper pleadingly and tug at your wrists but he makes no move to untie you.

“You were marvelous, my love.” He croons gently, tracing patterns along the flushed skin of your inner thigh. “Again?”

Oh. _Oh_ , you feel his entire throbbing length gently rubbed against your clit from hilt to tip. He’s still hard, sticky and hot, and it sends a shiver of arousal through you. Against your better judgement…you force yourself to nod. He doesn’t hesitate to plunge himself back inside, drawing out a scream as he slams inside of your oversensitive sex again and again. His pace is brutal and punishing as your back arches to accommodate his powerful thrusts, breasts bouncing as shocks of pain lance through your body. The unyielding grip he has on your hips is almost cruel as it prevents you from doing anything but helplessly take him in repeatedly. The slick sound of him pounding you is loud and obscene, as another wail escapes your lips.

“Please, Tarn! Ah…!”

He gives a low rumble of satisfaction upon hearing you beg, and quickens his pace, continuing to pump into you harder and harder. He doesn’t give you warning before he overloads, just buries himself so impossibly deep before gush after gush of viscous white fluid pours into your exhausted body. You gasp for breath, desperate for a break but there is none to be had.

He takes you again after that, over and over for hours until you’re past oversstimulated, trembling violently and unable to speak, throat hoarse from crying out. He’s filled you so thoroughly, overloaded inside you so many times that your stomach is bulging from his transfluid and some of it leaks from your sore, abused sex, trailing down your legs. He’s whispering soft praises into your ear as you’re cuddled in his arms, wrists released from their shackles at last. He’s purring, kissing and stroking you tenderly as you feel yourself on the edge of unconsciousness.

But you can’t sleep, not yet. You wait until his breathing evens, till his body drapes over you protectively in a way you know means he is slumbering peacefully.

It’s now or never.

“Goodbye, Damus…” you whisper, wishing you didn’t feel the way you did.

You gently thread your hand through the fluffiest section of his feather cloak that you know is part of him, just behind his neck. Murmuring the incantation, you feel the rune on your hand burn gold before it is printed on him, hidden by his dark plumage.

“ _Forget me._ ”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nickel gets paid a visit by an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Context: In the comics, while trying to escape Scorponok, she had used a recording of Tarn's voice to paralyse him. This saved her life and that of the Scavengers. They got stuck on Garrus-9, a prison with no means of communication shortly afterwards. They are trapped there and since the new LL hasn't been updated, I'm just going to do this before canon rips my story apart xD
> 
> Since this is post-With Strings Attached I kind of don't want to spoil how I'm going to end it by having this here but at the same time I really want to finish up this gift fic so wyd xD

The door creaks open.

Nickel can’t believe it, of all the people she would have expected to appear in her hour of need— but perhaps that was too presumptuous. Perhaps he was still here to rip her heart out through her chest for betraying him. He’s in a disguise of course, but she’s familiar enough with his spell work to know its Tarn. The Scavengers are cheering behind her, quickly trying to fill in this newcomer on their situation and unaware of the danger.

“Please…” she whispers as he narrows his eyes, taking in the company she’s with…Fae he considered the worse Decepticons in history. 

“Let’s go.” He says flatly, turning and walking away briskly down the empty hall.

“Thank you so much! We thought we we’d be stuck there forever! Who are you?” someone was gabbing as Nickel walked silently behind the shadow demon.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked lowly, as the idiots that were her current team nodded eagerly.

The stranger’s common Fae appearance was shed to reveal raven black feathers, razor claws and that familiar, Decepticon mask. For a long moment, no one said anything. Tarn even seemed briefly amused by their shock. It might have been a six against one, but Grimlock wasn’t here so Nickel was sure that no one was under any illusion on who would win in a real fight.

“Honestly Nickel, I expected better from you. Somehow you’ve managed to attach yourselves onto these failures, quite a demotion.” He insults casually, shadows flickering in the corner of her vision. “Luckily for you, I have need of your talents and I’m in a generous mood. If these disappointments for Fae are to die, it won’t be by my hand today.” 

“That’s a relief.” Misfire mutters, still shifting anxiously.

“Come with me, Nickel. The rest of you can do as you please.”

“Now hold up, Nickel’s part of the Scavengers. If you’re getting vengeance or whatever other psychopathic plan you’ve cooked up, you’ll have to go through all of us.” Krok says bravely, stepping beside his smaller blue comrade.

“Yes, very heroic.” he notes dismissively, but Nickel can sense his building impatience, that underlying volatility that is so characteristic of Tarn. “I plan to speak with her, if you must know.”

“That’s not reassuring coming from someone who talks people to death…” Fulcrum mutters from behind her.

“Enough, I’ll go. I’ll meet up with you guys in a bit.” Nickel swiftly interjects, knowing that if Tarn really wanted he could kill them all with his Outlier ability, _then_ have his conversation and probably have tea in between.

Her old friend opens a portal before gesturing for her to step through.

It’s not how she imagined coming back would be like.

The interior of the _Peaceful Tyranny_ is both familiar and foreign to her, it’s haunting to step into her past. It’s darker, much more suited to Tarn’s own shadowy magic style now that he lives here alone with his precious darling. She supposes that is to be expected but…it’s still jarring.

“Can I trust you?” he asks abruptly.

Nickel thinks of her elation when that prison door opened, remembered that it was _his_ recording, that little human device no less that had saved her life and those of the Scavengers. They might not share the same ideals, he might always value his obsessions over the Decepticon cause but right now, she thinks she can appreciate a little of their old companionship. He’d been a good ally, whether knowingly or not.

“You can.”

“Something is wrong with me, I’ve lost something very dear to me and I need help locating it.” He explains shortly, as she heads to her med-bay on instinct.

“What is it?”

“…I don’t know, I can’t remember. You’ve known me for many Fae years though, and I was hoping you could tell me. Something I’ve had for the majority of my life.” He replies, following her through the winding halls.

“Um…well what is it like? Is it an item? A spell?” she prompts with a frown, it was unlike Tarn to misstep on bookkeeping since he was fastidious about it. 

“Probably not something physical like an item, since I’ve had it…since I was Damus.” He offered hesitantly as Nickel instinctively dug through her drawers to find everything as she had left it.

“Okay, how about we have a check-up and I’ll see what’s wrong?”

He nodded, sitting obediently and for a moment it was just like old times. She didn’t let it show, but her heart broke knowing that the DJD had fractured like it did, that those who she had once called her friends and home were now scattered across the realms somewhere…lost and alone.

“Hm, your health seems fine. There’s a weird little rune here I think…” she muttered as her voice trailed off.

Then, it hit her. (Name). This entire conversation he hasn’t mentioned them once. Hadn’t gushed about how beautiful and bright their eyes were, how kind and loving they had been to him in the past, how much he wished that they would see how much they meant to him and so on. Nothing. If they weren’t here, Nickel was sure he’d be raging around furiously or otherwise searching for them. But then, she realised he was.

“I need to check something.”

She hurried to their room, Tarn gliding along beside her. When it became obvious what her destination was, she glanced at her companion to see if he would bristle. No reaction, just curiosity and…discomfort? She throws the door open, but the room is empty. It’s been empty for a long time.

“They’re gone.”

“Who?” he snaps, voice agitated as he ushers her out. “I despise that room, so I’d rather we chat elsewhere.”

Who? He didn’t remember…they’d somehow wiped his memory. She wanted to laugh, (Name) had won at long last. Yet here Nickel was, holding the keys to her imprisonment in her palm. 

“I can’t tell you, Tarn. It’s better this way.”

“Nickel, tell me. I _must_ know.”

“Tarn, doesn’t it hurt when you think of it? Doesn’t it burn? You need to let go, if you hold on…you’re going to rip your heart to pieces, and theirs.”

“A friend? This is a person? Who are they, I need their name.” he pressed desperately.

“No, you need to let go. Just let go, Tarn. It’s over. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I could tell you this name or that but you won’t remember what it means. It’ll just add to your list of discomforts.” She replied flippantly, waving a dismissive hand.

“ _ **No.**_ Nickel, I need this.” He insisted, growing irritated by her evasiveness.

“You’ll break if you know, Tarn. I can’t let you fall like that, if I told you now…history would just repeat itself. If you truly want to keep it…you’re going to need to change.”

“How so? Who are they?”

“Someone you loved too much, someone you hurt because you just couldn’t let go.”

“Give. Me. Their. Name.”

“NO TARN! _You_ listen, do you know how much you hurt the people who cared about you?! Kaon, Vos, Tesarus, Helex. We all _trusted_ you, thought you would lead us to a Decepticon victory but you betrayed us. You cared about no one other than yourself! You’re still selfish! It disgusts me, and when I speak to you, it’s clear you haven’t changed one bit! I will yield you _nothing_!”

He flinched, surprised by her sudden rage and outburst. But he didn’t know that this anger, this hurt had been simmering inside her since she had left. That she was furious that even after thousands of years of working together, he ultimately stood only for his own desires. It killed her inside to know this was once a friend she treasured, who’d saved her life.

“Nickel…”

“No, Tarn. I absolutely refuse to give you anything until you _fix_ yourself. You’re volatile and unstable yet yearn for love you can’t accept. The more you are given, the more you want and you’ll never stop. Well enough is enough. End me if you want, but you’ll never hear me beg.” She snaps, fuming as he stands there awkwardly.

“…I need to know Nickel, it consumes my mind. What can I do in exchange for this piece of information?” he offers tentatively, attempting to offer an olive branch.

“I want you to go find every member of the DJD and apologize. Whether they accept it or not doesn’t matter, but you need to go and reconcile your relationships. If they decide they hate you, then you’ve got to respect that and get out of their life. If you can do that, it’ll prove to me that maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

“A-Are we reconciled?” he dares to venture and Nickel just can’t deal with this right now.

“Primus Tarn, no we’re not. Meet me last, just—just go. Go hire a psychiatrist or something. ” She tells him, exhausted.

He hesitated visibly, unsteady and clearly unsure of how exactly to mend his relationships. But Nickel can at least see an inkling of understanding in his optics now, and well…it’s better than nothing.


End file.
